


Quietly Our Hearts Beat

by sweetums



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Anal Sex, Angst, Animal Death, Bottom Louis, Felching, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Isolation, M/M, Mild Blood, Minor Violence, Monsters, Smut, Top Harry, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 07:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16013522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetums/pseuds/sweetums
Summary: When he first saw the boy, face caked with dirt and wincing in pain but fiercely determined to hold a strong front, he knew he’d die before he let anything happen to Louis.Louis and Harry in the universe of ‘A Quiet Place’.





	Quietly Our Hearts Beat

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this whole thing happens in A Quiet Place's universe but it's not HL as characters in the film. I heard about the film months ago and just got around to actually watching it and when I did, my initial interest in the concept came back. I think this world is really cool and unique so I wanted to write within it. Let's just say that the events of this fic coexists with the film's storyline.
> 
> If you don't know what A Quiet Place is, you don't need to to read this. But you might like to watch the [trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WR7cc5t7tv8) or just google it.
> 
> As always, please read the tags.
> 
> Italics means it's in sign language.
> 
> I don't allow translations or reposts of any kind.

Taking extra care with each step in his boots, Harry adjusts his pack, now with the extra weight of caught fish, and mops his brows with the back of his hand. He is keenly aware of every inch he’s distancing from the gushing stream of water as the closer he gets to the house, the quieter he has to be without outside, louder noises acting as a shield.

He’s thankful that at least the risky venture was a success. Old canned food and scarce vegetables that miraculously manages to grow out back can only last them so long. And he knows it’s selfish but he needs the freedom and fresh air after days cooped up.

The cottage begins to loom as Harry’s every movement from his feet to the swing of his arms become feather-light. It’s not much but after what has to be well over a year of wandering, it’s the nicest place they’ve found. Tucked away in the countryside, it provides the feeling of seclusion and there are a lot less risks here than in cities that were built on noise. The stone building also has a basement, a discovery being akin to finding gold. Harry has been working tediously since they settled here to soundproof it.

Away from the river, birds, strong wind blowing leaves to rustle, paranoia sets in. He’s metres from the house and considers removing his heavy, leather boots in favour of the soft padding his bare feet could provide. He eventually decides not to, afraid of taking too long and causing worry.

He gently eases himself through the front door. They oil every hinge here at least once a day, just to be sure. His pack along with the fish gets set carefully down in the kitchen before he goes over to the living area.

He finds Louis snuffling under a thick, knitted blanket as he sleeps restlessly on the sofa. Even when unconscious, the boy’s brows draw ever so slightly as if distress never leaves. Like worry and fear is now embedded in him.

Harry hates that more than anything. He kneels down then lightly strokes a thumb over the lines, attempting to smooth them over. It doesn’t work and Louis’ blue eyes blink awake after a while.

One look at them and Harry knows he’s down. The fact that he was sleeping in the middle of the day was another indicator and now, Harry regrets his stupid fishing trip. He should’ve stayed, made up some game for them to play or found a book to read together. And they could’ve eaten roasted parsnips for one more night.

_Are you feeling okay?_

Louis’ long lashes flutter like he can’t fathom a good answer. He reaches out a small hand to touch the side of Harry’s face.

_I missed you._

And Harry almost hates the confirmation. It reminds him that Louis is his now. That he’s probably all that the boy has.

When the Creatures came, they brought with them the end of everything. There was nothing that could be done to prevent their quick rampage. The worst was how a human’s natural reaction to terror ultimately caused their demise, like gory irony. Because when they came, everyone screamed, cried out, sounded alarms. That cost them tremendously.

So the few that luckily managed to survive the brutal and rapid initial attacks learned. They learned to fight all instinct and grow silent. And they carried that precious knowledge with them as they uprooted and ran, to nowhere but with hope. Rumours were hard to spread for obvious reasons but there was a belief in help or salvation if they just kept going, so they did.

Harry had to do it alone. When disaster struck, he was living by himself in London, far away from family and so he had no choice but to begin the journey without companions. Then he met others along the way and they formed a group, travelling together and sharing burdens. They moved from abandoned building to abandoned building, aware that staying put somewhere for too long was risky at the start.

Unfortunately, the nature of this particular apocalypse meant that more heads equated to more risks. There were too many people to slip up, cause human but fatal mistakes. Along the way, they’ve seen that happen too many times.

And now, it’s him and Louis. They’ve witnessed their pack of wanderers dwindle down to two. Deep down, Harry knows that it was always going to be him and Louis or no him at all. When he first saw the boy, face caked with dirt and wincing in pain but fiercely determined to hold a strong front, he knew he’d die before he let anything happen to Louis.

At that point, Harry had been walking for weeks. He joined up with two other men along the way and they were looking to rest up in an old gas station. Louis had been there, curled up and alone behind a ransacked shelf. He was struggling to keep away from the Creatures for some reason, having had more than one closeup with them. It made him afraid and fighting to keep on going rather than hide away in defeat.

Harry coaxed him as gently as possible. He did everything he could to gain Louis’ trust and they spent too long at the gas station for that reason. The other men were getting frustrated at Louis’ lack of cooperation and willingness to just go with them. But Harry knew he was traumatised, desperate for help but scared to be vulnerable.

After hours of soothing whispers and carefully kept distance, Louis gave a tiny nod, indicating that he’d be okay with Harry helping him. Harry grinned wide and proceeded to patch up Louis’ wounds and give him most of his own emergency food and drink supplies.

From that day on, Harry’s eyes never left Louis. It became Louis first, then himself, and that feels alright, good even, because Harry understands that the core of being human is vehement care for another.

_I’m sorry._

Louis nods to show that he’s not angry. Harry would prefer anger because he despises seeing Louis in such deep numbness.

_I caught us some fish. I’ll make us the best meal you’ve ever tasted, okay? And you can have as many pieces of sweets from the box that you want afterwards._

Louis smiles at him tiredly.

_Sounds good._

They have a little cuddle right there on the sofa as it’s still too early to start on dinner and Louis needs comfort. Harry strokes at the back of Louis’ soft head as he listens to the boy’s slow breaths against his chest. It’s times like these when he wants to just talk. He wants to lazily ramble with Louis. Or sing him a song. He misses singing a lot.

After a while, Harry pulls away and nudges Louis to follow him into the kitchen. He doesn’t want Louis to be on his own so he makes the boy perch on the breakfast table while he cooks.

Preparing food takes longer these days. He has to chop slowly and carefully, fetch pots and pans with painstaking agility and watch everything cook on a low heat.

As he’s making the meal, he constantly looks over at Louis to give him a smile or brush a hand over his arm in a reassuring touch. Louis has told him about the big family he used to have and Harry knows how hard it must’ve been to adjust from having people around at all times to near solitude. He wants Louis to feel like he’s there, always.

The sun has set by the time everything has finished cooking. Harry carefully plates up some baked fish and vegetables then places them on the wooden table. He lights a candle in the middle before sitting across from Louis, ready to tuck in.

They always have to eat with their hands since clanking cutlery makes too much noise. Him and Louis look at one another wordlessly as they wait for their food to cool enough to touch. He wonders how many conversations they’ve had with each other in their heads by now. He’s sure that he’s told Louis countless stories, endless jokes. Of course they sign to each other but neither of them are fluent as they had to learn after the Creatures came so it’s used more for necessity rather than casual conversation.

As they eat, Harry thinks that at least Louis seems to have cheered up. Or more accurately, left that bad headspace he gets into. They both do it sometimes, God knows that Harry is not always a beacon of positivity. He can get so angry some days, when nothing goes right and he’s sick to death of it all, that he would do anything to scream. On those days, Louis calms him down so well. So it’s only fair that he’s there for Louis on his bad days.

After dinner, Harry pulls an old book off the shelf. The house only came with a few books so they’ve been reading them slowly, not everyday and only a chapter at a time.

They’re midway through Great Expectations right now. When they read together, Louis sits in Harry’s lap so that they can both see the words. Harry reads a bit faster so he patiently lets Louis turn the pages; the few seconds he has to spare between each turn gets spent admiring Louis’ profile or dropping a sweet peck to the side of his head. Louis always smells like fresh dewdrops and his skin is butter soft. They’ve never even considered reading two seperate books.

-

The following day, it pours with rain. Harry spends a lot of his time these days in the garden, tending to the much needed veggies growing there and the flowers that Louis loves so much. When the weather is bad, he has to think of a different way to occupy time.

He decides to teach Louis how to knit. Luckily, Harry was a bit of an odd one in his previous life and he knew how to knit despite being a twenty four year old man. When he saw the knitting supplies during their inspection of the cottage, he knew that they would come in handy. Since winter is fast approaching, now seems like the perfect time to get them out. Travelling on foot for months meant that they had only the clothes on their backs and a few spare pieces. Even those are starting to tatter and Harry wants to keep them as clean as possible.

As he brings the basket of needles and wool out of the cupboard, he decides that he’ll knit Louis a baby pink jumper from what he’s seen. The boy gets cold very quickly and Harry wants him to be warm when he can’t be there himself to act as a human furnace.

Trying to teach someone anything without being able to speak turns out to be rather difficult. They also can’t sign because their hands are occupied so Harry just makes Louis watch him knit in slow motion until he picks up on it.

Harry can see Louis trying his best with his tongue poking out cutely and eyes scrunched in concentration. Even though he himself is dead serious about making them useful things, this is more of an activity to keep busy for Louis. The boy has a lot of energy and Harry tries his best to help him release it healthily.

A few hours pass and Harry has managed to make a good start on his jumper. Louis ends up with a nice piece of wool with jagged edges in a mismatched pattern. He insists that it’s a placemat, showing Harry how efficiently it works by going to the kitchen and getting a plate out just to put on top of it.

Harry smiles and gives him two thumbs up.

-

When it is sunny, Harry puts aside his own protectiveness to take Louis out to the river. Ever since settling in at the cottage, they’ve rarely both left it at the same time. For one, Harry just wants Louis to be safe in a secure place. There’s also a fear that something would happen to their sanctuary if left alone. It could be ransacked, taken by others or even penetrated by Creatures without them there to oversee it.

But Harry knows that Louis gets restless. Although he ventures out alone sometimes, it’s under strict orders from Harry to be in very close proximity to the house. So much so that Harry could get up on the roof and find him if he were to scan the short range horizon.

The river, however, is a small trek away. It’s a beautiful spot with clear, cool water and grassy banks. He knows how much Louis would love it there so he wants to boy to go but clearly, Harry will have to accompany him.

Just a few hours should be fine, Harry reassures himself. Louis deserves a treat.

They walk barefoot out into the warm air. Harry lets Louis go ahead so that he can watch his back as he wanders with curious eyes darting around the surroundings. Harry carries a pack with their shoes and other things like food, water and weapons just in case.

They walk through the forest and all the green it offers, endless canopies of leaves like stained glass windows streaming filtered sunlight. The scent of pine lingers along with unsaturated earthiness and Harry watches Louis breathe it in as a welcomed change from indoor air.

Their journey ends as the river draws near and Louis turns around to grin excitedly at Harry. If he could, Harry knows Louis would be bounding over and diving in. With the circumstances, they tread with utmost care until they’re right at the edge where the water streams inches away from their feet.

Harry turns Louis to face him before he can do anything so that he can have a quick word.

_It’s cold. And remember to be quiet. The natural water makes noise but it’s not loud enough to cover much._

Louis rolls his eyes. He doesn’t say, or sign, anything in reply so Harry sighs and gestures for him to go ahead. Louis raises an eyebrow back, though, and stares at Harry with his arms crossed for a beat.

Harry eventually catches on and turns around. He can hear the rustle of fabric as Louis removes his clothes. When Harry spins back, he’s in the water, swimming on the spot.

Harry drops his bag to the ground and settles down to sit and watch over. Louis glides through the river happily, dipping and floating freely. He started with light shivers but as his body adjusted, he’s properly smiling and at ease.

He waves Harry over, silently inviting him to join. Harry simply shakes his head. He can’t risk both of them tuning out and having a swim, he needs to be on alert when they’re out in the open like this. Louis pouts adorably at him but Harry can’t give in no matter how precious he is. He just knows that Louis is used to getting his way.

After some time has passed, Louis deems himself done with the swimming and wades out onto dry land. Harry turns way as he dries off with a towel but when Harry thinks it’s safe to look at him again, he’s only in boxers and a tank top, lying on top of a towel like he’s sunbathing. His skin is glistening with water remnants and his luscious thighs are soaking up most of the sunshine what with being so exposed. Harry has to swallow when the loose left strap slips, revealing even more of those deep, intricately carved collarbones and a glimpse of tiny, pink nipples.

It’s Louis’ day out, though, so Harry sucks it up and lets Louis be a tease whether it’s purposeful or not.

They stay out for as long as they can. Louis gets hungry once he’s all dried off and slightly more tanned than before so they eat the jam sandwiches Harry packed. He hates to do it but at mid-afternoon he nudges Louis and signs that they have to get back. Louis just smiles sadly and they pack up for a the hike home.

The return journey doesn’t feel quite as nice as the walk to the river. Harry chalks it up to the sun cooling down and that slight funk from a good day coming to an end.

Unfortunately, that’s not all it is.

It happens out of nowhere so Harry has to think on his feet like never before. An animal very near to them makes a sound that resonates on the same level as an explosion due to how it tarnishes a completely silent forest. Immediately, they can see the blur of a Creature dashing through the trees.

Harry picks Louis up clean off the ground and rushes to a thick trunk that he spots, crouching behind it. He wraps Louis tightly with his arms, checking to see the boy cover his mouth and screw his eyes shut. Harry cradles him to his chest protectively as he keeps his eyes on the Creature.

There isn’t even time to blink for as soon as it reaches the animal, it devours it crudely. The sight and sound is unbearable, gore to turn anyone’s stomach with a mass of bones and blood. He can feel Louis shake with sobs in his arms but there’s nothing that they can do except pray that they’re not next.

They stay behind that trunk, barely breathing. The Creature lingers after its kill as if wondering whether a next course is close by. It whirs its ugly head around, those highly sensitive ears salivating for any sound.

Harry is terrified that it’ll somehow hear the beating of their hearts or the blood travelling around their bodies.

Thankfully, it disappears off and away without harming anything else. They don’t dare to even sigh straight away, though, waiting until they’re sure it’s distanced safely from them.

They unfurl at that point and walk as hastily yet quietly as possible. Harry can sense the immense fear in both of them, fresh from such a close call, but they persevere with clammy hands and shaking limbs until they reach their home.

Once inside, Harry’s heart breaks as he sees Louis begin to cry. Tears run down his paled face hard and fast and he looks so small and helpless in that moment.

Harry goes to him, hugs him and does his best to convey care when he himself is struggling with what just happened. It always has to be two broken, shaken people trying their best to help one another and today is no different.

They fall down right there in the hallway, clutching tightly, and curl together. Harry lets Louis sob all the sadness, anger and terror out, hoping he’ll be lighter by the end. He rocks them as Louis holds onto his hand for dear life to ground himself and Harry.

It’s a long night but they get through it. Harry knows that for Louis, he can always get through it.

-

Their routine persists along with a state void of regular civilisation. Harry goes about his business and he tries to be bearable company. He hopes Louis is doing the same but there are times when he’s not so sure.

Today, for some reason, Louis is being annoying on purpose. All day, he’s been getting on Harry’s nerves. This is actually a difficult feat because Harry has boundless patience for the boy and they can’t even talk so how he would even go about irritating him is only possible through planning and perseverance.

While Harry works in the garden, he keeps on touching everything, taking Harry’s tools then putting them back in the wrong place. He also pleads with Harry through his gestures and expression to let him pick flowers. Harry tells him firmly that the flowers are not in full bloom so they can’t just pick them yet. Louis gets stroppy and acts all wounded like Harry is the one being difficult.

And it’s okay, necessary even, for either of them to be in bad moods. But Louis is seemingly on a mission to douse everything with negativity. He turns his nose up at the food Harry cooks and point blank tells Harry that the diary he keeps is useless. It’s hurtful because Harry thinks he’s doing everything he can to keep them sane and safe.

 _Why are you being so difficult?_ Harry breaks and decides to confront him.

They’re in the bedroom, the only one in the house meaning they’ve had to share, getting ready to go to sleep for the night. It’s an early one because Harry thinks it’s one of those days that’s better off just being over and done with.

Louis shrugs.

 _I’m trying really hard._ Harry wants nothing in return but he can’t help feeling unappreciated.

Louis fiddles with the hem of his top to avoid looking at him.

_It’s all for nothing._

And Harry can’t believe Louis would say that. He hates even the idea of losing faith, of not believing in their future and essentially killing themselves before this awful thing does.

_Why would you say that? We’re going to survive this._

Harry can feel his breath begin to heave in anger.

 _Don’t be naive._ Louis glares at him.

_Stop._

Harry kind of wants to throw something right now. He wants to tell Louis that he’s being spiteful and tearing them down.

 _I’m scared that there’s nothing for me to live for. There’s a good chance I’ll never see my family again. My mum could be dead. And then what would your parsnips be good for?_ It’s a lot of words for him to sign and he’s been taking steps closer to Harry as he gesticulates, lightly shoving at Harry’s chest when he’s finished.

Harry grabs at the hand provoking him, holds it tightly as he makes unwavering eye contact with those stormy blues.

He understands that it’s all been getting too much for Louis. He knows how much the boy misses his big family, how lonely and downtrodden he must feel everyday. It hurts him, actual pain running through his very core, to witness that.

 _I’m sorry._ Harry signs it with defeat after letting go of Louis’ boney wrist.

“Don’t be fucking sorry.” Harry’s eyes widen in shock as Louis quietly rasps actual speech, seemingly pissed off that Harry has given in and dissipated the heat.

They look at each other, Louis practically steaming and Harry a little confused, letting the unrelenting silence reign. That is until Louis closes the gap between them by kissing Harry right on the lips.

It takes Harry by surprise but it feels good. Something about the intimacy of having someone so close is good but what’s more is that it’s Louis. The boy pours his intricate and beautiful personality into the way he kisses. His lips are soft, his tongue insistent yet pliant at the same time. Harry could melt and become a ghost of himself from kissing like this forever.

He pulls back. It makes Louis look at him with even more fury and annoyance.

 _We shouldn’t do this._ Harry takes a small step back to emphasise his point.

 _And why not?_ Louis looks indignant.

_Because you don’t need this. We don’t need to bring this into what’s already a huge mess._

Louis exhales a laugh, shaking his head. Harry thinks that he mutters ‘idiot’, more like mouths it but still lets the word escape in the faintest sound.

_We’re in love with each other._

Harry frowns. He guesses that they’ve probably developed a love for each other because of what they’re going through. But he knows how vulnerable they are, how trauma in this magnitude can warp minds, and he never wanted to explore anything of that nature lest it jeopardises this equilibrium they’ve found.

_What?_

Louis takes back the space that Harry created by his earlier retreat.

His anger seems to have faded away and he looks up at Harry, a real earnestness in his eyes, taking Harry’s hand and placing it on his chest, right over his beating heart.

“Yours,” he mouths.

It makes something pang deep inside of Harry. Louis’ declaration makes him feel both crazy and normal. Having Louis’ love, it’s like something out of a fever dream. How a boy so perfect could love Harry is beyond realms he’s familiar with. But it also settles him, reminds him of what it is to be adored.

In response, Harry’s body decides to just kiss the boy. From their one previous kiss, Harry knows that he should lead Louis and press into him hard to ground and pleasure his lax mouth. Both of them want to be completely tangled up, taste and feel each other and forget everything else. Harry licks into Louis, sucks at his bottom lip until it’s raw, as they slowly make their way to the bed.

They fall softly and Harry is determined to never break for oxygen as he brackets Louis underneath him and breathes all the air that he’ll ever need into the boy’s glazed mouth.

It couldn’t have been instantaneous but by the time Harry pays it any mind, he’s hard as a rock. Upon that realisation, he swiftly pulls away.

Louis looks absolutely disheveled beneath him. His pyjamas are rumpled and rucked up at various places to show glimmers of his tanned skin. His eyes are droopy, cheeks like plump apples and lips stimulated to burst with colour.

 _I want to._ Louis lifts his hands to sign.

Harry shakes his head. _We shouldn’t._

_Please. I need you._

Harry squeezes his eyes shut. _It’s not a good idea._

And it really isn’t. Sex is messy in all senses of the word. Yes, there’s that risk of noise, but there’s also the fallout. He doesn’t want Louis to regret anything or scramble his emotions.

 _I love you._ Louis carefully sits up to reach down beside them and retrieve a tub of Vaseline. _We’re nothing if we can’t have this._

Harry stares at the small tub he’s presented with as Louis strokes the back of his neck.

He’s a bit terrified, shaking slightly as he reaches for it. To have this with Louis, to feel close to him and love him in every way, is a lot. But apparently, it’s all Harry wants in this moment and maybe everyday for the rest of their lives.

Louis then pulls his loose t-shirt up, over his head and drops the thin material onto the rug. He never looks away from Harry, even as he pulls his trousers down until he’s in nothing but the golden skin that adorns his perfect body.

Harry touches his warm hips and from there, he runs his hands over the expanse before him. Everything is velvet yet alive with the quickened breaths Louis exudes from sensitivity to Harry’s wandering palms.

Bending his head, Harry’s nose lands grazed over Louis’ plush belly. He nuzzles at the sweet bump, wants to worship a boy who keeps his mind whirring when everything else is so static. He trails his way up, brushing over Louis’ entire front, until he has pressed the smaller body into the mattress, gorgeous face looking up at him.

Louis’ blue eyes are like little pockets of starlight, all widened and filled with anticipation. Harry kisses over them lightly, feels the feathery lashes flickering underneath his lips.

When he pulls back, Louis is tugging gently at his clothes as if silently asking for them to come off. Harry takes his time discarding them off his body and away from the bed. When he’s done, Louis’ gaze flitters downwards before he brings him in for a kiss.

It’s a nice, languid one to allow them that direct skin on skin contact for the first time. It might be difficult without words and passionate moans but Harry needs to make Louis’ body want it, want him.

As they kiss, their hips roll together with the notion of a steady wave and it’s a while before Harry decides to start teasing at Louis’ hole. He does so by petting at the plump bum then occasionally snubbing fingers and thumb over the crack. When he feels Louis leak all the way down his leg, he fumbles for the Vaseline to moisten his entrance. That gives way for a few fingers to slip in and coat the walls liberally. He knows that soon, the dripping cock between his legs will be what really wets it and fills it to the brim.

He ruts up against the awaiting hole, kissing over Louis’ collarbones and soothing his arms with calm strokes. The teasing builds to a point where he just wants to shove in and fuck. But he needs to make sure Louis is ready so he looks at the boy with question and could cuss with happiness when Louis gives him eager nods.

Harry lines up his cockhead then slaps his callous hands over Louis’ mouth, pressing with some real force, before he sticks it in. He can feel Louis’ scream muffling under his palms. He’d love to hear it but he’ll take the tears spilling out of Louis’ eyes and his tiny fists bunching the sheets up harshly enough to turn red.

There’s no way he can fuck with vigor and create that kind of noise. So Harry starts with slow thrusts, focused on massaging the prostate. And then he paces it so that he thrusts deep and hard, waits a few seconds, then goes back in for another powerful pound.

It must work because Harry’s prick is hard and blurting everywhere and Louis’ eyes are rolling to the back of his head. The hands previously smothering Louis’ noises are now fingers shoved in so he has a mouthful to suck on.

Maybe it’s because he hasn’t had sex in so long but Harry’s brain and body are red with arousal. He can feel sweat pouring from his skin, veins popping like vines and blood rushing in his ears. It’s almost animalistic. It might have started tenderly, and he still believes there’s love making here, but there’s a lapse in what they’re doing where it’s primal. Taking Louis feels like tearing into game, as if Harry has been starved of it until now.

If he could speak, he’d be grunting about how tight it is. He would break the headboard with his hips and have Louis whimpering high and sweet.

What he can do is spread Louis’ toned legs wider until they’re exposing everything and giving him complete access. It allows him to get it all in, feel far up inside, and see his cock slide in and out of a stretched, puckering hole. He’s mesmerised by it, all senses now stimulated.

Harry snaps out of the trance to look up at Louis’ slackened face. He’s blotchy and winded but when his droopy eyes meet Harry’s, he smiles sweetly. Harry brings himself down to press their foreheads together and plant eskimo kisses as a gesture of his adoration.

The start of his orgasm approaches and Harry takes the risk to fuck sharply and rapidly despite the noise of slapping skin. He knows it’ll be fine because it only takes seconds for him to come, buried deep inside of Louis and biting at his own bicep to stop his groan.

He needs a moment to recover while still sunken in tight heat. Everything is warm and fuzzy, even the flooding around his dick feels nice at the time. Or maybe it’s more the idea of stuffing Louis full of him.

When he eventually pulls out, Louis winces, still hard. Harry gives him a look and a quick caress of his face to let him know that Harry will take good care of him.

He bends his head to suckle at Louis’ cockhead. It’s lovely and pink and tastes almost sweet as Louis squirms around. Harry’s not there for long though because he’s aware of the other area where the boy is currently leaking. Ducking further down, Harry plunges his tongue into Louis’ sore hole.

Louis’s legs kick out, almost in protest, as Harry delves in. He’s lapping it all up, giving a few wet suckles here and there while wanking Louis steadily to keep up a good thrum of pleasure for the boy.

When Harry is satisfied that he’s licked Louis clean, he resurfaces, feeling the stickiness around his mouth. He then rises to open Louis’ panting mouth up and release his own tongue in there, flooding Louis with his cum for a second time.

Harry massages it all in filthily before pulling back to clamp Louis’ mouth shut again and force the boy to swallow his load. His strokes speed up so that just as Harry’s seed coats Louis’ throat, he shoots off onto his belly, gurgling and softly choking.

Harry rushes to hold him straight after. He presses Louis right into his chest and kisses him lightly, making sure that he feels safe and comes down well.

As they lay there together, it feels perfectly right. He’s so in love with Louis and he’s hoping that this will mean something for them. He wants them to wholeheartedly invest in each other, to navigate anything beside one another. And if the outside world were to ever be okay again, he wants them to experience it hand in hand.

Louis can’t stop nuzzling at Harry’s skin as he recovers. It’s like he wants to say a million things with his soft nose rubbed up in Harry’s neck, chin and cheeks. Eventually, Harry gently holds his face still, huge hands encompassing Louis’ delicate little face.

“How are you?” Harry mouths.

Louis nods in response as if to assure Harry that he’s alright.

Harry smiles before he kisses Louis on his button nose then carefully clambers off the bed. He sneaks over to the bathroom and cleans himself up quickly. After, he wets a towel under the tap, wringing it out to then bring back to Louis. He cleans the boy meticulously, ensuring every stain has been wiped off and that his perfect body ends up just as spotless as he was before Harry defiled him.

He discards of the towel then tenderly moves Louis under the duvet, tucking him in so that he’s comfortable and warm. Once his boy has been taken care of, Harry gets in the other half of bed and turns on his side so that they face each other.

His eyes trace all of Louis’ dainty features. He swears that he could sit and admire the boy for days, weeks, however long he can get. The moonlight brings out every detail of his sharp cheekbones and elegantly sloping accents from his nose to his lips.

It’s pillowtalk in utter silence yet they both look sated, at peace with whatever understanding they have conjured respectively. For Harry, he doesn’t need to say anything as long as Louis feels what he’s done to Harry’s heart. After what they’ve shared together, words wouldn’t do justice anyway.

-

The basement is ready in perfect time. It’s a sign or a gift, a small offering of goodness to usher in this wonderful breakthrough. Harry wants it to be as nice as it can be because he wants Louis to feel unadulterated optimism about something, knows that that feeling is special in this restless desolation.

As soon as the last few bits are done, Harry dusts himself off and can’t help the giddy feeling building inside while on his way to grab Louis. The boy is scribbling away on a notebook in the living room, probably doodling, and Harry takes just half a second to admire the way the sunrays streak over the soft tufts of hair that falls in front of his face.

He mindfully walks over then touches Louis delicately as not to startle him. There’s no need to even sign or mouth anything because Louis knows by now to trust and follow Harry.

They walk through the hallway with their hands intertwined until they reach the mattress covering the trap door. Harry ever so cautiously moves it aside before he lifts the wooden latch. He gestures for Louis to go down and watches the boy slowly tackle the steps. Once he’s safely there, Harry maneuvers the mattress so that it’ll sit on top after he closes the opening. Then he makes his own way to solid ground.

The basement has been swept and cleaned. Harry dragged down cushions and blankets to cover a lot of the floorspace and provide them with seats, a place to rest. There’s water and packaged food he’s managed to find and stock. He’s determined to find pretty things to dress the space up and make it feel like a real haven but for now it’s not a lot; it’s comfortable and, hopefully, safe.

Most of the work went into soundproofing. Harry has been going out and collecting any and all thick materials that he can find from mats to rugs. He then had to cover every inch of the walls, ceiling and floor with it. The most tedious part was testing. Once he thought it was all done, he had to set up contraptions to make a quick burst of sound then stand at various places outside the house to listen for it. He couldn’t test over and over after each failed attempt because of obvious reasons so he had to wait hours at a time as he spaced them out.

It was all worth it, though.

Harry circles the space with matches to light what must be about twenty candles. Once the room is sufficiently illuminated in a warm glow, he turns all attention to his boy. He walks over to the small figure then takes his hand into his. There’s a slight shake there, from nervous excitement, but Harry holds them tight and gazes deep into Louis’ eyes. He smiles at him to say that this is possible and that they deserve it.

“Hi.”

The unfiltered sound of Harry’s voice straight from his mouth makes Louis tear up immediately, choking out a sound of unbelieving joy.

“Hi.”

And God, that voice. Harry has to close his eyes and take in that honey-like sound. It’s the sweetest rasp, ever so slightly high, and has every bit of warmth and cheek that Louis has.

“Thank you for this,” Louis says, voice still close to a hush and rusted from lack of use. “Thank you for all of it, Harry.”

And Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the sound of Louis saying his name.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Harry insists.

Louis rolls his eyes but his smile is fond and beautiful.

“I want to tell you so much,” Louis confesses, pressing himself close to Harry. “All this time, I just wanted to talk to you, love.”

“I know,” Harry responds. He knows all too well.

Before they say anything else, he leads Louis to sit on the nest of cushions. He himself gets comfortable by leaning against the padded wall and spreading his legs in front then Louis crawls over to sit in that space. He snuggles his side up against Harry’s front and sighs with his eyes closed, as if he’s content. It blazes right through Harry’s heart until his chest is toasty and full of love.

“The first time we met, I thought I was going to get eaten by cannibals or something,” Louis starts to talk again. He’s now reasonably adjusted to the freedom and Harry can sense the ease with every word, holding less trepidation.

Harry laughs when he’s processed Louis’ statement.

“Why on earth did you think that?” Harry asks.

“Well, I’d been alone for ages. I couldn’t even tell you the exact amount of time. And nobody I came across would even look at me let alone show any interest in helping me. So I was hiding out with no food, no water, delirious from being chased by Creatures so often. When some random men burst into that store, I thought I was done for,” Louis explains. “And, like, your mind makes up crazy theories when stuff like this happens. Zombies and all that, I thought that was all coming true.”

“I hope I’ve proven that I’m neither a cannibal nor a zombie,” Harry remarks.

“Hmm, not sure yet,” Louis pretends to ponder.

“I know I eat you well but that’s different, baby,” Harry adds cheekily.

He sees Louis blush bright red.

“You’re so full of yourself,” Louis slaps him lightly.

“Pretty sure that’s you, actually,” Harry retorts.

“Piss off!” Louis has burrowed right into Harry’s wooly jumper with embarrassment.

Harry laughs, just so happy to able to even do so and also, to be able to have this with Louis. To joke, flirt, explain. He’s been missing every nuance, passing thought and story Louis has had to share.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Harry apologises.

“S’weird hearing that,” Louis says.

“What?”

“Pet names,” Louis answers.

“Ah,” Harry hasn’t really noticed, just seemed natural to slip them in. “Is it alright?”

Louis nods shyly. “Yeah, I like it.”

Harry grins. “Okay, good.” He turns Louis’ chin up so they’re facing each other again. “Now, do you want to know what I thought when we first met?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you were a stubborn thing,” Harry starts. Louis huffs but doesn’t say anything. “You wouldn’t let me help you at all and kept waving that little pocket knife around, trying to intimidate me.”

“Did it work?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry admits. “I was very intimidated. I’d never met anyone like you. But I was just so compelled to help you and, I don’t know, keep you alive. And you were so beautiful, it made everything harder.”

“I was so gross,” Louis argues.

“No, you were prettier than anything I’d seen for weeks,” Harry tells him honestly.

“Well, thank you,” Louis gives in, pressing a kiss to Harry’s chest.

Harry curls him in and practically squeezes the life out of the smaller boy as he kisses him all over, loudly.

“I like your voice,” Louis says after Harry eases up. “It’s deep.”

Louis’ thumb starts stroking the side of Harry’s mouth as Harry blushes.

“Your voice is gorgeous,” Harry compliments back. “Perfect. Everything about you is perfect.”

“Shut up, corny,” Louis rolls his eyes. “I’m serious about your voice. I bet you can sing.”

“I used to actually,” Harry replies. “For fun at parties and bars.”

“Go on then,” Louis urges.

“What?”

“Sing for me,” Louis demands.

Harry bites his lip, nervous at the prospect. But he can’t really deny Louis anything, truthfully.

“Okay, but don’t laugh if I’m shit,” Harry warns.

“I’m absolutely gonna laugh if you’re shit,” Louis says.

“Right, great,” Harry accepts.

He takes a minute, mostly trying to remember any lyrics to be honest. He hasn’t sung or even heard a song in months.

Finally, he settles on an old Fleetwood Mac song. His mum was a massive fan while he was growing up so it was always on in the house and he grew up singing it meaning it’s ingrained in his mind.

He sings the song as best he can, hoping to sound half decent. He doesn’t look at Louis’ face as he does though, that would make him far too nervous.

When he finishes, Louis claps softly. Harry looks down at the boy in his lap to find him smiling widely, crinkles fanning prettily from his eyes.

“Beautiful.”

“Thanks.” Harry kisses his forehead.

“You’re so good, Harry,” Louis insists. “This apocalypse is wasted on you; you could’ve been a proper popstar.”

Harry chuckles. “I doubt that.”

“Well, you’re a star to me,” Louis says firmly.

They must talk for hours. Louis has a million stories from his old life, a lot of it about his family and all of his friends. He loved the place he grew up in and he has only fond memories. Harry gets scared that he’d become upset, especially when he talks about his mum, but Louis seems happy to just talk and keep his loved ones alive through stories.

And Harry has stories of his own. He drawls on and on and he’s used to people telling him that his anecdotes drag and are essentially pointless as they never have a punchline. Louis teases him a little too but Harry knows that the boy is enjoying every word.

He almost forgets but after some time, Harry reveals his last surprise.

He gets up to retrieve an old cassette player then sets it down on the ground before fiddling with it. A sweet, old-fashioned melody begins playing and Harry smiles. He walks over to Louis and offers an outstretched hand.

Louis takes it and together, they hold each other and sway to the music. Harry’s eyes close and it all falls away. He’s in this moment and nothing else and he feels like with Louis, it’s a life, not a survival.

“I love you.” Harry says, loud and clear.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, I'd appreciate it if you could reblog/like my [fic post](http://darlou.tumblr.com/post/178228968163/quietly-our-hearts-beat-when-he-first-saw-the-boy)
> 
> How would you all feel about me turning this into a series? I can't sit down and write a whole story as I still think that it's heavily reliant on the concept but I could write verses about stuff like flashbacks, a particular incident, how they celebrate Christmas etc. Do let me know because this is a bit different from my usual fics.
> 
> I'm on tumblr as darlou so feel free to message me about anything xx


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